


Just Find My Love, Then Find Me

by pastelaliens



Category: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Mo Dao Zu Shi, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, be wary of spoilers from the novel here as well!, did a dialogue prompt on twit and this is what's come of it, drabbles vary in rating from G-E, the major character death warning is for canon stuff!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelaliens/pseuds/pastelaliens
Summary: posted this http://chrmdpoet.tumblr.com/post/162406220799/50-dialogue-prompts dialogue prompt list on twit and had my followers pick lines of dialogue to include in wangxian drabbles! setting, time period, rating, and length all vary but it's all centered on that specific romantic relationship.





	1. "I'm not going anywhere."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Wangji recalls Wei Wuxian's death while dreaming but wakes to find comfort.

Rating: T

 

He knows he’s dreaming because he remembers the way the ash had coated his throat, thick, choking. He remembers the taste of it. It didn’t follow him here but the way it falls through his fingers rings true, the darkness of it staining his white robes.

When he screams, it echoes: “Wei Ying!” The second time, it tears his throat. “Wei Ying!”

His hands scrabble, dig through the ash, try to find anything he can hold onto. A fragment of bone— a scrap of fabric— a lock of hair— All the while his chest is wracked by sobs he won’t let past the press of his lips.

Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s only the memory of him.

The ash embeds into the cuts on his fingertips; behind him, abandoned on the razed ground, the strings of his guqin are darkened with blood. No matter how desperately he calls out for that soul, it’s lost to him forever. Forever. It’s such a very long time.

Kneeling, he sits back on his legs. He tilts his head to the sky, closes his eyes, and his warm tears disappear into the black of his hair. When finally he finds his voice, it isn’t to cry out again; from his throat a melody shared only between the two of them, Wei Wuxian’s head in his lap and forehead beneath his lips. Alone, alone as they'd only been allowed a scant handful of times before... before...

In his bed, Lan Wangji bolts up, his sleeve pressing to his damp cheek. His breath is uneven, his heart rattling against the cage of his ribs. That moment of panic he knows so well from thirteen years of waking with it tightening in his chest— but then he feels warmth beside him. When his eyes fall upon Wei Wuxian lying close by, they go wide in wonder. Not for the last time.

Cautious fingers that know him so well by now reach and reach until they brush soft skin. So he isn’t still dreaming, after all. A touch to the palm of Wei Wuxian’s hand, the one he always has flung carelessly over his head when he sleeps; a touch to the curve of a brow; a touch to the swell of a cheek. Lan Wangji finds comfort here, finds his breath, finally eases back onto the bed when seeing him there whole and well brings him peace— or as much as he can manage with memories such as these. He lays facing away from the slumbering Wei Wuxian, gaze fixed on the far blank wall.

A moment passes before an arm slides around his waist, the length of a body pressed to the back of him. Wei Wuxian’s face settles against Lan Wangji’s neck, nose fitting right behind his ear. “I’m here,” comes his voice still thick with sleep. With a kiss he tastes what remains of Lan Wangji’s tears. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	2. "You're trembling."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wei Wuxian wants very badly to know the origin of Lan Wangji's scars.

Rating: M

 

The night is so warm that even with the windows flung wide their clothes stick to their sweat-slick skin. The trees are still, not even a scant breath of wind stirring their leaves. The crickets have hushed their songs, the heat a weight even on their backs. In their shared room, Lan Wangji shifts on the floor, pressing as much skin to the cool hardwood beneath him as he can, the bed abandoned.

Beside him is Wei Wuxian, sitting up with his legs stretched in front of him and his palms flat on the floor. His head tilts back, the curling ends of his hair brushing his own fingers. When Lan Wangji moves, it draws his gaze. Even the breeze of his ponytail swinging is the slightest relief.

“Aren’t you going to take this off?” Wei Wuxian’s fingers pluck at the last layer of clothing not yet peeled from Lan Wangji’s body. Wei Wuxian’s torso is bare, leaving him only covered from the waist down. “You’ll be more comfortable that way. Why suffer if you don’t have to?” There’s a glint of mischief in his eye that Lan Wangji catches immediately. He shuffles away from those wandering hands but settles only inches away. Never totally out of reach.

“Always so modest, Lan Zhan” comes that teasing voice. Lan Wangji watches warily as Wei Wuxian creeps ever closer. “I won’t faint at the sight of your pretty skin.” The flash of a smile is bright and warms Lan Wangji the way the sun might. Here in the midst of an unforgiving summer it’s almost suffocating— but he wouldn’t trade the shortness of breath in his lungs from that grin for the mildest of days all alone.

In the quiet, the faintest sound of a tie being pulled. Lan Wangji stays still when the knot unravels even as his stomach flips. It would be more comfortable, he tells himself. Even a short reprieve from the heat would be welcome. He doesn’t allow it just because of the way Wei Wuxian stares at what’s revealed as though starved. No, no, that isn’t why.

The brand, even old and scarred, even thirteen years healed, is an angry and ugly red stain over his heart. Wei Wuxian’s fingers brush over it as if he’ll close his eyes and read its shape only with his touch. When Lan Wangji parts his lips to take a breath, Wei Wuxian can feel it in the lifting of his chest and retracts his hand as if the flesh still burns.

Remaining silent, Lan Wangji rolls, hides his marred skin from sight. But Wei Wuxian is quick to recover, Lan Wangji’s new position giving him the perfect opportunity to grab the fabric with decisive fingers and pull it down over his arms and back. It’s thrown into a corner to be forgotten— especially in the face of what Wei Wuxian finds beneath it.

It isn’t a surprise, he knows. He remembers being waist deep in cool waters and catching the frantic, fleeing motions of Wei Wuxian through the half-concealing branches and leaves of a bush. But he also knows that he’s never been allowed a closer look than that.

Lan Wangji’s skin jumps under the first cautious touch. When he doesn’t cry out or object or scold, Wei Wuxian gets bolder, traces one long line of a scar. Where it meets in a cluster with others, he pauses, adds another finger. Another— another— until his entire hand presses and slides along the curve of his back.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian calls, his voice gentle. Lan Wangji lets his eyelids flutter closed, turns his head away and rests his cheek on the arms he has folded under his head. “Won’t you tell me where they’re from?”

“No.”

The heel of Wei Wuxian’s hand bears down too hard as he shifts, slides across the floor, swings one leg over so he’s straddling Lan Wangji. A second hand joins the first, dragging to either side of the smallest part of his waist. This time a protest does rise in his throat, his head lifting and his muscles pulling tight—

But he doesn’t remember the words he means to say the moment a pair of lips brush faintly against a raised, pink scar. The air in his lungs leaves him in a rush; the kiss sears him like no heated metal ever did— and so does the next. And the next. His arms can’t hold him up so he surrenders, hides his face in the crook of his elbow and waits for the next sweep of that mouth against him.

Wei Wuxian’s breath shakes on the exhale. “You’re trembling,” he whispers against Lan Wangji’s skin. As if blinking awake at those words, Lan Wangji lifts his head, shifts his gaze to look at Wei Wuxian over his shoulder.

“No,” he says, an echo. His voice is steady, not a stuttered note in the melody of it. “That’s you.”

And so it was.


	3. "Tell me again."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two words are all Lan Wangji wants to hear from Wei Wuxian.

Rating: E

 

Under his hand wrapped gently around Wei Wuxian’s throat, he can feel the beginnings of a whine. It’s pulled from somewhere deep, a sound that’s never touched the air before now, a sound that’s just for him, just his. Lan Wangji’s fingers slide up, tilt that head back so he can taste the noise and swallow it down where it will be a part of him forever and ever.

Until the very end Wei Wuxian had always been strong, standing on his own two feet, but he’s weak now, leaning heavily back against Lan Wangji’s longer body, all his weight on the one arm wrapped around him. Let him be helpless, let him surrender to this if to nothing else. It’s easy to hold him, Lan Wangji finds. The curves of him fit just so in Lan Wangji’s palm no matter where it travels. Here, a hip. There, waist. There, thigh. There, softer flesh. There, harder. Wei Wuxian’s mouth opens to a name gasped and short— “Lan Zhan.”

The answer is a low, “Mm,” that vibrates in the teeth pressing slowly into his vulnerable bottom lip offered so sweetly. The journey to the kiss that follows was a meandering line of marked skin from shoulder to neck and ends in that mouth dark red and kiss-bruised. Wei Wuxian can’t catch his breath; every time he gets close, Lan Wangji makes sure to find a new place to sink his fingertips. For someone who was once so cold, he leaves Wei Wuxian burning— or so he claims, his voice tight and his words clumsy, overcome.

Pleas tumble next from that clever tongue— and it’s always the words that movie Lan Wangji perhaps more than anything else. He closes his eyes to them. “Lan Zhan, let me— Lan Zhan, won’t you give me what I want? Do I have to beg? Please, I want to—”

Lan Wangji is still except for the parted lips he drags to Wei Wuxian’s ear. “First, tell me,” he says. Quiet. Even. Firm. His heartbeat, fast in the chest pressed to Wei Wuxian’s back, gives him away.

“It’s always that. Will I have to tell you every time? I will. I will if you’ll just—” His voice stutters and Lan Wangji’s fingers move, deft and sure, playing him better than he has any guqin. Wei Wuxian is more supple than an instrument, and Lan Wangji moves with him as if dancing to the music he coaxes from him. “I’m yours,” he whispers finally. His spine is bowed and he’d defer further and further if not for the way Lan Wangji holds them tightly against each other.

Heat in Lan Wangji’s voice, this time. “Tell me again.”

Wei Wuxian’s head falls back onto Lan Wangji’s shoulder. Two pairs of eyes open and find one another. “I’m yours,” comes that phrase again, so prized. The way his body gives in to Lan Wangji’s reverent touch, more generous now that those words have been spoken between them, how could he be anything else? And he, Lan Wangji, has always belonged to Wei Wuxian.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you want to yell about mdzs with me my twit is @paybackisawitch ;D


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